The Battle Under The Mountain

[Rig 17580]

"Pride comes before the fall," said Inquisitor Gaius. 

[Medvekoma 2073]

In the deep caverns of Urguan, the elderly once-Queen sorceress perched over a table filled with a scatter of loot. A human-sized set of steel armour, a sloppily forged blade inscribed with the indescript insignia of a vassal - to her, it was one of a thousand she'd seen before - and most interestingly, a horse's whistle.

 

"I felt more alive this eve, than I had for the past centuries. Side by side with Uruks. Just as I led our alliance against the Dominion, just as I followed the Grand King against the first human empire I witnessed crumble. Fate is a wheel, Yemekar's balance is a certainty. And now I am ever-more certain that the Urukim and the freefolk of the world are just as vital cogs as the chosen Khazadmar."

 

Late on, she emerged to the vale in front of the Dwarven realm to blow the whistle, and was pleasantly surprised when a spotted gray courser appeared.

 

"A fitting steed for my daughter." She remarked, as the horse was given feed and home in the Urguan stables.

 

All in all, the war started optimistic for her. A good sign, perhaps. And she had a pair of Doomforged to talk to, one she'd already met - not even mentioning her daughter. Perhaps the Dark Dwarves will deliver and showcase that despite their rarity, their contribution to the war will be in line with all other clans and bloodlines of the Khazadmar.

 

Spoiler

 

[6Dark 431]

Walter let out a sigh of relief while tending to his minor injuries. "Today's battle was won, despite being outnumbered, the keep stood tall. Let us hope Feidelhm keeps on watching over us." He'd then glance at his blade, knowing that in the grand scheme of things, it was only a step towards a bigger fight.

 

Spoiler

I hope that most of the comments from Empire are really ragebait lmao. Why would an army that was outnumbered, defending , and had the home-field advantage actively go out of their way to just throw it all away and walk into the blob lol.

 

[Metamancy 1759]

Spoiler

the cope is strong on both sides in this one

 

[carawithcookies 145]

Elsbeth would be taking care of her garden back on her burrow in Amberdell, the Halfling grins as she heard the news from Kal'Baraz. "The Imps got 'em arses kicked eh? good riddance! teach 'em stinky Imps to run back to their lands and leave us alone, hmpf!" The Halfling nearly killed the lilac she was tending to on top of her burrow due to her excitement, she stopped herself in time!

[Britannicvs 2508]

14 hours ago, Medvekoma said:

In the deep caverns of Urguan, the elderly once-Queen sorceress perched over a table filled with a scatter of loot. A human-sized set of steel armour, a sloppily forged blade inscribed with the indescript insignia of a vassal - to her, it was one of a thousand she'd seen before - and most interestingly, a horse's whistle.

 

"I felt more alive this eve, than I had for the past centuries. Side by side with Uruks. Just as I led our alliance against the Dominion, just as I followed the Grand King against the first human empire I witnessed crumble. Fate is a wheel, Yemekar's balance is a certainty. And now I am ever-more certain that the Urukim and the freefolk of the world are just as vital cogs as the chosen Khazadmar."

 

Late on, she emerged to the vale in front of the Dwarven realm to blow the whistle, and was pleasantly surprised when a spotted gray courser appeared.

 

"A fitting steed for my daughter." She remarked, as the horse was given feed and home in the Urguan stables.

 

All in all, the war started optimistic for her. A good sign, perhaps. And she had a pair of Doomforged to talk to, one she'd already met - not even mentioning her daughter. Perhaps the Dark Dwarves will deliver and showcase that despite their rarity, their contribution to the war will be in line with all other clans and bloodlines of the Khazadmar.

 

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"BUY FROM STEED N FEED!" Narvi screams. 

[SirBlocklips 192]

Dugan Frostbeard cheers in his clan hall with his kin, having completed his last Clan Trial despite having bleeding ribs! "Ah think t'a polah bear wos more formidable o' ah opponent than t'ese Imperials, eh Rhorgvar?" he jests to his Clan Lord.

[DancingZebra267 1626]

"Narvak oz Urguan, Narvak oz da Dwedmar! Victoreh!" Rhorgvar raised his hammer into the air, as he watched the enemy flee.

[cometking123 236]

Rewan looked upon the battlefield with a solemn expression, guided only the meager light that crystals and lanterns had to offer. As a boy, he gazed upon the remnants of battle, afterimages of warriors and footmen lying still upon the ground. This sight though, was a story made frightening real. Here, now, where the deeproads converged to a plateau of slate in front of iron gates, warriors of every house, clan, and creed held valor and brutality in equal measure. He saw a dwarven merchant upon the parapets haggle not with silvered tongue, but debts of steel and coppered bolt. Nameless footmen holding back defender's sally, holding sword and repeated prayers. In this cavern, where dwarves once cleaved gems from stone and reshaped towering mountains into hallowed halls, a multitude of wills converged to pry it from the grasping hands of raiders. 

 

The sky offered no reprieve from a battle this large: The dwemer could not break the mountain with the scant time given since establishing themselves in this new land. They could, however, buy time to break the wills of the human and elven host. Souls from southern shores and red-stained badlands offered their skills in battle to repel the raiding party from their homes.  In the capitol of Rittersburg, inside a palace of white marble and crimson floors, one could imagine the Emperor with bloodshot eye issue orders and observe their tenacity in penned ink and scout's report. 

 

The minstrel saw him twice in times before, where he heard the pleadings of peasants and merchants and to decide the fate of a loyal knight - the Sunspear of Qalasheen. Gennad var Vigo, proprietor of the Pour House where he worked, brought wine to every observer and prepared his own plea to curry favor. He thought himself blessed then, as probably many others, that he did not stand out or fall out of line with the Empire's laws. Squinting from the back, what scared him most was not his booming voice, the way he seemed to pull ire and wrath from deepest winter, but his gaze that pierced through each petitioner. In it, was the restlessness that cursed every son of Horen: to die before greatest deed was completed. 

 

His face was contorted in a sneer or a common grimace, but his expression constantly shifted from moment to moment. Disinterest at a petitioner's plea for a court chef position - A young's child curiosity at a request for his sister's hand in marriage. He raved with unbridled rage when a knight justified abandonment with morality, yet showed temperance offering clemency and an exception to its most closely-held law - to never practice another religion within the Empire's borders. 

 

SHUNK

 

The whistling of an arrow disrupted his musings. How could he have been so daft, to remember something that was not involved in one of many battles! His horse toppled upon him, and Rewan laid there trapped upon its lithe frame. He grimaced in pain, yet armed with only a lute, he could not help but take in every scream, every battle cry as merely an observer. He laughed grimly at his situation, as the dark seemed to circle round Rewan like sharks.

 

With one eye gone, did the good doctor remove an eye of bloodshot rage or clear-eyed judgment? Will his friends in Cerulia, the pirate Salem and the guards that treated Rewan with kindness, find themselves at the end of this conflict with their lives intact? Will the subject of tales written, the dragon-slayer Obok Irondrinks, the Golden-Lyre, now Admiral O'Rouke, find eulogy within heated battle? And even now, as the light was fading from his eyes, the Dwarves plan in league with orcish might and human rebels to strike further in the heart of a united Empire. 

 

Does it matter? These were just the musings of a humble minstrel.

 

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Birds fly high oe'r mountain and seas to find themselves home at last after cut o' Winter winds.
Thankful then, that carrion birds and vultures find not the mounting feast inside Mountain's mouth, lives reaped in Spring.
Death passes by: at his left a flock of black feathers, at his right the legs of crawling swarm.
On this day, under mountain dark and damp, the flock passed by, but grubs and worms stopped and ate their putrid fill.

 

 

Spoiler

I have maybe 10 more descriptions of a cavern. Good fight from everyone #ilovemyemperor

 

Edited December 31, 2025 by cometking123